


Breaking and Entering

by romanitas



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanitas/pseuds/romanitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sneaking in and out of Annabeth’s dorm is always an interesting and challenging experience, for all parties involved.  Especially with nuns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Entering

i.

The first time Annabeth sneaks out of her dorm, it’s not even because of any one person, except herself. She gets back from the library obnoxiously late (having stayed passed closing, until the librarians did their sweep and literally kicked her out) but she collapses at her desk to finish the work she’d been doing. It’s only when she _does_ finish, closing up her study notes and blinking bleary-eyed at the clock, does she realize curfew has kicked in. It takes her another moment to remember she needed to run to the drugstore to pick up a few things tonight. And unfortunately, none were the sort of things she could arguably skip out on. 

It’s crisp fall weather, so she tugs on a sweatshirt and pulls back her hair into a ponytail before tucking it under the hood; blonde is bright, after all. She shoves a handful of cash into her pocket, then peers out her door into the empty hallways. Satisfied, she slips out, dumping her keys in her pocket, too, after she locks the door behind her. 

Once she gets out of the building unnoticed – through an unguarded backdoor, usually only the emergency exit – it becomes a lot easier. It’s Brooklyn, after all, and it’s only 11pm. There are plenty of people out and about, and a teenager in a hoodie is as common as rats in the sewers or pigeons in the parks. And honestly, mortals are a lot less scary than some of the things she’s seen, so she walks without fear, and the streetlights are bright. She’s taken the route plenty of times in the past. 

All in all it’s a rather boring excursion, because sneaking around is a lot easier when you can go invisible. She takes her hat off before going into the CVS, though, since she does have every intention of paying for her tampons and birth control. Getting back into her dorm room is just as easy as it was getting out, once she puts the hat back on. 

_Thanks, mom_.

ii.

Annabeth is glad her room is a single, because the amount of times she gets Iris Messages would be super awkward to explain to a roommate. She’s not sure if it’s her academic record (the absences, the transfers, and everything in between) or the luck of the draw, but either way she’s not complaining. Not to mention she just likes – and _needs_ – her space, and locking herself away in her room is the best feeling after a long day of classes and schoolwork. 

Which is why the knock on her door surprises her, because it’s early enough in the quarter that she doesn’t know too many of her classmates – at least know them well enough that they’d feel comfortable randomly stopping by her dorm. It’s also late enough in the evening to be strange for a spontaneous academically related visit, a ‘hey what’s the homework’ or ‘have you seen my backpack?’ 

She disentangles from her chair and walks to the door, cracking it open a fraction. The face on the other side brightens, waves eagerly. “No habits, does that prove I’m not a nun?” Piper asks, as Annabeth breaks into her own grin, fully unlocking and opening the door before quickly ushering the other girl inside. 

“ _Piper,_ ” she starts, mildly chastising, as her friend makes her way through the dorm room comfortably and flops on the bed like it’s her own (but not before throwing her arms around Annabeth in a hug). It’s not the first time she’s been here – just the first time after curfew, a ripe old early nine pm. It’d be nice if that got changed later in the semester. 

“ _Annabeth_ ,” is her response, casual as she peers around the room. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Piper scoots herself backward, till she’s leaning against the wall, her legs stretched out across the mattress. “I wanted to stop by and say hi, mostly. Your presence at camp is always sorely missed.”

Annabeth smiles, shaking her head a little, but the words leave a warm bubbly feeling inside her anyway. “What _do_ they do without me?”

“Break a lot of things, mostly.” 

They laugh over it, and Annabeth sits on the bed, too, crossing her legs like a pretzel. “It’s not that I’m _not_ glad to see you, but really, do I want to know how you even got in? They locked the doors –” she glances at the clock, “-about ten minutes ago.”

Piper gets a slightly conspiratory look on her face. “Security guards are no match for daughters of Aphrodite.” 

“So. Charmspeak.”

“Shh, don’t ruin it.” 

They both laugh again, but Annabeth’s pretty impressed anyway. The nuns seem to have hired the scariest looking guards for the doors, but she knows Piper’s taken down goddesses with her words. Security guards are cake, no matter how burly their arms and moustaches. She probably doesn’t even have to try particularly hard at this point. 

Piper picks up Annabeth’s pillow and fluffs it, hugging it to her chest and leaning her cheek on it. “Jason needed to pay a visit to Olympus, so I hitched a ride. And no, he didn’t fly to the city himself. I’m not interrupting homework, am I?”

Annabeth sighs. “Technically, yes, but I’m almost done, and truthfully, I could use a break.”

“Ha _ha_ , good thing I have expertise in those,” Piper says, and even if she’s half teasing, Annabeth knows she’s right. For as long as they’ve been friends, Piper’s had a remarkable ability to help Annabeth relax – something so few of her friendships entail to that deep of a level. Something she needed desperately during those months Percy was missing, something she still cherishes to this day. They got along easily from the get-go, and it’s only gotten better (they’ve only gotten closer) over time.

“Just in warning, I’m considering making you use the window when it’s time to leave.”

“Then I’m considering making you change your mind,” Piper says, lifting the pillow and tossing it at Annabeth’s face. 

She laughs in surprise, but doesn’t waste any time in throwing it right back. It turns into a pillow fight that gets a little too loud, and Annabeth nearly smothers her friend into silence when she hears one of the nuns making the rounds. They play a little catch-up, Annabeth talks about classes, Piper about camp; they laugh and gossip and it feels so much like home (like _camp_ ) that Annabeth forgets she’s sitting in a dorm room. It’s about quarter after eleven when Piper finally decides it’s time to leave, given she’s supposed to be regrouping with Jason fifteen minutes ago. A tight hug of goodbye, then Piper slips out the door the way she came in, marches straight down the hallway and out the door. Annabeth watches from the window as Piper crosses the lawn without a care in the world, waving as she disappears over the gate and out onto the street. 

It turns out that next to the invisibility cap, Piper’s charmspeak is one of the more useful tools of getting in and out of the dorm building. 

iii.

Oddly, Annabeth is the one who needs to convince Percy that it’s fine for him to come up to her room. The nuns are pretty strict on the whole “no boys allowed” rule, and Percy is just so adamant about not doing anything to jeopardize her spot in the school – getting kicked out sucks, and when he puts it that way, she can’t even blame him for the hesitance. He refuses straight up until the start of October. 

But their schedules make for difficulties in seeing one another, a fact that drives them both up the wall, and it’s Annabeth who pitches it first, via Iris Message just after she gets back from dinner in the cafeteria. 

“Just come over.”

“But Annabeth –”

“Don’t you but me,” she starts, crossing her arms. “I’m only on the second floor.”

“Sister Bethany’s met me exactly twice and I’m pretty sure she’s developed a Percy Jackson radar.” 

“Sister Bethany is grading tests this evening, so she’s not even on patrol.” 

“Annabeeeeth,” he says, stretching out her name in half a whine. 

“Percy,” she replies, but there’s something else beyond warning in her tone. “Look, just – please? I miss you.”

He doesn’t have much of a defense against that argument, and his face takes on a disgruntled expression over it. “I miss you, too,” he hastens to reassure, even though it’s something terribly obvious to both of them. “But –”

“What did I say about ‘buts?’ Protip: don’t.” She taps her pencil on her desk, impatiently, worriedly, and with annoyance, all at once. They fall into a slightly awkward silence after that, with Percy shifting uncomfortably in his room. 

“I just don’t want to get you in trouble,” he says.

With a sigh, she slumps over, resting her chin on her hand. He’s used that excuse before. “I can think of a million things that are more troubling. You’re being dumb.”

“I am not!”

“A little bit, maybe,” she says huffily. It’s not even that she wants him over to make-out or beyond (though there’s still a 90% chance of that happening). She just genuinely misses him, misses having him around, and though Tartarus doesn’t push them together so desperately anymore, there are still moments where she’d just like to know he was there. 

But he hates that look on her, and his face crumples under it. “It’s almost the weekend,” he offers.

“You won’t get me in trouble. It’s barely October, even if you did get caught, it’d be the first transgression.” 

“Not helping.”

“I _do_ have my hat, too, you know.” 

It feels like such a late realization, for both of them. Percy’s eyes sort of flicker, as if maybe he’s actually considering it. Annabeth tries not to let her hopes get too high, because he’s been so _stupidly_ stubborn over it since she first told him he should come spend the night in early September. 

“It is a pretty useful hat,” he muses, and even if it’s not confirmation, Annabeth knows he’s basically finally going to consent to it, and she feels almost stereotypically teenager giddy. 

She tries for a smirk, but it comes out a smile. “So, what, I’ll see you in a half an hour? The subway’s not so bad post rush hour.” 

Percy’s silent, but it’s the smile that wins him over, and maybe just the prospect of being with his girlfriend in general. “Better gimme forty minutes, to be on the safe side.” 

They barely even say goodbye before waving the message away. 

Reaching her second story window isn’t the highest or most difficult feat Percy’s ever tried to accomplish, but it’s still an unexpected challenge; it takes more upper body strength than he anticipated and trying to discreetly drag over a garbage bin for extra leverage, and by the time he hauls himself up and crash lands on her floor, Annabeth’s smirking and reaching for his hand. 

“Forty-two minutes, thirty eight seconds, for the record.” 

Percy doesn’t really care about breaking time limits, not when she pulls him into a hug right after. His arms slide around her, and she smiles, especially when she takes note of the overnight bag that came through the window with him. 

iv. 

Clarisse La Rue isn’t subtle. She doesn’t do, eat, sleep, or breathe subtle, and though Annabeth’s tall herself, the way Clarisse stands out among the other uniformed classmates is an entirely new level. Some of them nudge and gesture, especially once they see Annabeth in quick conversation with her. 

“I swear to the gods, I’m gonna punch the next girl who points at me like that, Chase. I don’t care if they’re a friend of yours or not.”

“Clarisse, you’re carrying a giant spear. Who knows what they even see? Now, what did you need?”

“I just need you to make sure I’ve got a clear path to your room later, no questions asked right now.”

“You do realize that just makes me want to ask _all_ the questions?” 

“Great, we’re on the same page.” And without another word, Clarisse rushes off, hurtling herself over the gate amid more whispers and stares, while Annabeth just sighs like this is an every day occurrence and continues her way towards the library to get in some studying. She likes to think she gives off the sort of aura that’ll prevent most people from questioning her about it, if the wariness over Clarisse herself doesn’t do it for her on its own. 

But she really doesn’t know how to react when Clarisse comes through the window later, landing with a thump loud enough to echo in the neighboring rooms and hard enough to shake the floor. And probably the ceiling of the room below. 

“Oh my _gods_ , what the hell, Clarisse!” Annabeth growls, from her perch on her bed where she’s nearly fallen off. Percy makes use of her window frequently enough, but she can’t say anyone’s ever leapt through it like that. 

“I said no questions asked!” she barks back, climbing to her feet empty-handed. 

“Where’d your spear go?”

“What did I _just_ say?”

Apparently the collision caused enough of a stir for immediate reaction, because before Annabeth gets the chance to retort her demands, there’s a swift and anxious knocking at the door. “Miss Chase? Is everything all right in there?” 

She nearly takes a flying leap to tackle Clarisse into silence before realizing that a) it would have the opposite effect on keeping Clarisse silent and b) it’d just cause more noise and more explanations she doesn’t want to grapple with. Fortunately, for all her brute strength, Clarisse is smart, too, and she doesn’t say a word or make a sound at all after the nun speaks. 

“Yeah, sorry, uh – I was moving my desk, and it fell over,” she offers, trying to sound believable even if she knows it’s a terribad excuse. What kind of falling desk makes that much racket? It probably wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t after curfew, and she hadn’t already had some previous close (and noisy) encounters. 

“I might suggest waiting till tomorrow for any further furniture movements, Miss Chase. Do you need me to come inside and help?”

“No, no, it’s all under control!” she says, going wide-eyed and making rather animated gestures for Clarisse to jump right back out the window from which she came. She mouths a ‘not yet’ in reply, and Annabeth only glares at her more ferociously. 

It’s Sister Bethany on the other side of the door, and if any of the nuns have it out for her, it’s that one. While getting caught with a girl in her room is much better than getting caught with a Percy, it’s still not something she wants to – or even _can_ – explain right now.

“If you’re sure,” she says, her tone entirely disbelieving. Annabeth suspects it’s only because she hasn’t _actually_ gotten into any trouble yet that the woman doesn’t push her way in anyway. But at the number of close calls thus far, it’s probably only a matter of time before the master key gets whipped out. 

“Positive! I picked it up, won’t touch it till tomorrow!”

“As you should have done from the start,” warns the sister, but when she doesn’t reply again, Annabeth sits in awkward silence for the sounds of her footsteps walking away completely. 

When she deems it safe, she punches Clarisse in the arm. “Now will you tell me what’s going on?” 

“Sorry, no can do,” she says, making her way back over for the window. She scans it carefully while Annabeth simmers behind her, tapping her fingers impatiently. 

“My dorm room is not a demigod safe house.”

Clarisse just gives her a look, her lips curling in an almost smirk as she grips the edge of the window. “Hey, I never claimed it would be.” 

And she tosses herself out without another word, leaving behind one very confused and very irritated daughter of Athena; the only reason she doesn’t yell out the window after Clarisse is because she’s had enough attention drawn to herself for the evening. 

(She never does get an explanation for it, either, but she does end up taking out a monster with familiar shaped electric-based scorch marks the next day while running between classes.) 

v.

Annabeth thinks that’s a knock on her door. Or it could be part of her dream, and she’s so warm and so comfortable right now, that she really has no desire to think it otherwise. She always sleeps better when Percy’s nearby, whether that means in her dorm instead of across the river in Manhattan or just a cabin away on Long Island. 

A grumbling noise escapes her throat when she feels Percy crawling out of bed, dragging his limbs over sheets and her, holding her hand until it’s impossible. They got in late last night, date night out having turned into date night combat. She’d ruined a brand new dress in the process, tore one of the sleeves and gotten some slashes at the hem, and Percy’s button up shirt had nearly been ripped to shreds. Just their luck, of course. Not that it stopped said clothes from ending up in a pile on her floor when they finally managed to get back to her dorm. 

Climbing up through the window in a dress wasn’t ideal, and it necessitated throwing her small handbag right at Percy’s forehead where he’d waited his turn from the ground (“Your commentary is unnecessary, I know the color of my underwear!”).

But either way, a shirtless Percy is making his way across her room, lazily and slumped, the telltale signs that he’s not entirely awake or aware of what he’s doing. Annabeth watches him through one slightly opened eye, and if she were fully awake herself, she might have realized his intent before it was too late. 

“Percy, don’t -!” 

Her warning falls flat, because he reaches for the door, unlocks and opens it, just as she’s scrambling and trying to untangle herself from the sheets. 

There’s an awkward stretch of silence. And then a girl’s voice. “Uh.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Annabeth hisses, nearly falling onto the floor as she finally gets out of bed. Smooth and graceful, on top of her boyfriend answering her door. Great impressions all around. 

“Oh, so you are there, Annabeth,” comes the same voice (with a slight teasing edge this time), and she recognizes it as her Calculus classmate Sara. It’s with that realization that she remembers inviting her over today around noon to work on a project. A glance at the clock on her desk tells her it is indeed noon. A little past, to be more precise. 

She practically teleports to the door, she’s moving that fast, shoving Percy aside, and he stumbles somewhat blearily. But the shove is enough to get him more awake, and then he suddenly looks _really really awkward_. 

Annabeth steps partially into the hall, so she can close the door partway and cut off most of Sara’s perspective on both her room and boyfriend inside it. She’s got a pair of shorts on, but Percy’s shirt (it’s not her fault they’re ridiculously comfortable to sleep in), though Sara’s giving her a knowing sort of look. 

She lightly smacks Annabeth’s arm. “Is there any reason you didn’t _tell_ us?”

Annabeth blinks, confused. “What? Tell you what?” 

“Um. How _hot_ your boyfriend is?”

She doesn’t respond right away. She knows people have seen Percy over, probably watched him struggle his way up through the window. She knows Sara’s been one of those who’s helped cover his escape in the past. 

And it’s not that Annabeth doesn’t know how attractive her boyfriend is. It just doesn’t always cross her mind. Her literal first impression after wondering over who killed the Minotaur was watching the supposed hero drool. 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess he is.”

“You _guess?_ ” The look in Sara’s eyes is full of _I just saw him shirtless, there is no ‘I guess’ here, there is only fact._

“He’s just… Percy,” she says, like that should explain everything. 

Sara makes a vague noise of disappointment. “I have no idea how you managed to keep that on the down low so well, but kudos, I guess. Want me to come back later?”

It’s Annabeth’s turn to make a noise of disappointment, this one aimed at herself and kind of awkward. “How about I just come to you? Like, an hour or so?” 

Sara chuckles, makes a face and raises an eyebrow. “Sure thing. He going to stick around?”

But Annabeth is already stepping back through her door. She rolls her eyes. “No,” she says. “See you in a bit.” 

The moment she closes the door, she bangs her head against it once, keeping it there resting against it. Two seconds later, Percy’s hands are at her waist, tugging and pulling her until her back is pressed against his (still bare) chest. 

“You _guess_ I’m hot?” 

She lets out something between a snort and a groan. Slowly, she turns around in his arms, so she can wrap her own around his waist, but the smile that bubbles onto his face wipes away any annoyance. “If I have to admit it, yes, I do guess you are a little bit.”

His cheeks tint the faintest shade of red, something she wasn’t entirely expecting. But he’s not really the type to think of himself in that way. He never really has, probably never really will. It makes her grin. “But that’s never been the most important part of you or us, you know?” 

The way he looks at her after that is almost overwhelming, and he leans in to kiss her, soft and gentle. “Besides,” she mutters, forehead still to his and breathing the same air. “The first time I saw you, you were literally drooling in your sleep. Kind of leaves a lasting impression, you know?”

He sputters, and she laughs; in retribution he scoops her up and practically throws her on the bed, and she has to bite back the urge to shriek at him. He flops down next to her, reaching for her hand. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “For – you know, answering the door. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Usually that works in your favor.”

“Hey!”

She giggles, kisses him on the cheek. “It’s fine. If it was a nun, it probably wouldn’t be so fine, but we lucked out.”

“With the way last night went, I’m surprised it wasn’t.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she slumps against him, and they sit that way in silence for a moment, Percy idly playing with her fingers in his. She really doesn’t want to move, but she’s already running late. With a sigh, she pulls away and stands up before he can grab her again, and even if she’s not looking at him, she can feel the puppy eyes in his face.

Instead she just digs around for one of her own t-shirts, tossing his back at his face. “You really do need to go though. I’ll IM you when I’m done with this project.” 

He sighs, in ways both whining and resigned. “You’re so mean.”

“No, Calculus is mean.”

“I hate math.”

He slips out the window, stealing one more kiss, and drops to the ground, tripping up only once. It’s a lot harder to be inconspicuous in the middle of the afternoon, but he tries. He’s Percy Jackson, though, and inconspicuous never allies with his name all that well. 

The number of stares he gets as he scampers for the exit almost makes the late start to the day worth it. (Sara spreading the knowledge of her boyfriend’s proclaimed hotness, maybe not so much; it’s just one more car for the story of Annabeth’s life gossip train.) 

vi. 

Annabeth puts her hand on the doorknob, unlocking her door, but she hesitates. Since Tartarus, she feels like she’s more aware of her surroundings, something she had to be down there that hadn’t quite left her. And even though she hasn’t opened the door yet, she just has the feeling that there’s someone in there. She knows it’s not Percy, having heard from him this morning, saying he needed to run to Camp a day early for a variety of fish related and camper related reasons. 

He’s really – mostly – the only person who drops by unannounced, and though she’s pretty sure it’s not monster related (they’d probably have busted down her door by now, if that were the case), it’s always better safe than sorry. 

She pulls her knife from her bag (not _the_ knife, she never did get that back – just one she picked up from camp, because Annabeth had been using one as her primary for too long to ever really stop), and keeping it in front of her, she slowly cracks open the door. There’s only mild rustling inside, so she decides to take a chance; she swings the door open angrily, knife out in front of her and ready to attack – 

Frank Zhang? 

“Annabeth, wait, sorry! Oh gods, don’t stab me!”

She swears in Greek, lowering her knife and kicking the door shut behind her. “What are you doing in here? _How_ did you even get in here?” 

He shuffles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s moments like those where she remembers Frank as she first met him, no matter how much he’s grown into himself and his own confidence. “Sorry, I swear, I haven’t been in here long – and I didn’t touch anything, I didn’t even sit on the bed –”

“Frank,” she says, cutting him off with words and a wave of her hand. “It’s fine, just answer the question. Why are you even in _New York?_ ” 

He grins apologetically, but she’s not all that mad, so she can tell he relaxes soon enough. “I had to stop by Camp Half-Blood, but, uh – well, I found this thing, and I thought you might want it…” He’s got a bag over his shoulder, and he reaches inside, starts digging around. “Piper said you’d probably be in class, but she told me where your dorm was.” 

Whatever he’s looking for is apparently buried somewhere deep, and he makes a bit of a face as he keeps searching. “Sorry, I thought it was right on top.”

“It’s fine. You still didn’t answer how you got _in_ though.”

“Uh.” He looks like he’s a deer caught in the headlights. “I flew?”

Had this come from anyone else except him or Jason, she’d stare at them (and truth be told, she does sort of stare for a second). But a breeze and a glance to the side reveals she’d left her window open, despite the chilly November air. 

“I was just kind of waiting. I didn’t want to dump it and leave it without saying hi.” 

Annabeth finds herself grinning a bit. She flops over on her bed, dumping her own bag on the floor in front of it. With the immediate questions out of the way, it’s easy to relax around Frank; it always has been. “Well, sit, if you have the time. Are you going to be around all weekend?”

“Not sure yet,” he says, and he does take a seat, in her desk chair, still rummaging through his bag. “We finally got Reyna sold on Iris Messaging, though.” 

She laughs. “I knew she’d come around.”

They start talking and catching up on each other’s camps, how Frank’s praetorship is doing, how the plans for a town at Camp Half-Blood are coming along, and neither of them notice when Frank loses his focus on searching, getting caught up in the conversation. 

“Oh, crap,” Frank says, cutting her off in the middle of a detailed explanation of the library she wants to build. “Sorry, I just – I should probably go. Don’t you still have class, too?”

Annabeth glances at the clock and lets out an ‘oh crap,’ of her own, scrambling off the bed. “Yeah, Calculus in – five minutes ago?”

Frank climbs to his own feet, then starts digging through his bag again. He gets an ‘aha!’ look on his face and pulls out a small statuette. He holds it out, offering it for her to take, which she does, her own face curious. 

“It’s Wengchang Wang,” he starts, and had he been talking to anyone else, he might have gotten a little awkward talking about it, but because it’s Annabeth, he just sounds proud of knowing what he does. “God of culture and literature, but he’s widely associated with academia and education, too. Students sometimes stop by his temples before big exams.” 

Her face softens enormously, and her hands practically cradle the statue. She looks up at Frank, smiling. “Thank you,” she says, honestly and genuinely, so much so that it sends a slight flush to Frank’s cheeks. 

“Hey, no big deal. We can talk more about him next time.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Annabeth gathers up her bag, and when she turns around, there’s a small bird perched on her windowsill. She blinks for a second, then he nods, and Frank flies out the window, presumably much as he came in. She sets Wengchang Wang on her desk in his wake, smiling at it before heading off to class. 

vii.

There’s a knock at her window. She notices it right away, her senses too attuned to her surroundings since she was seven years old and on the streets, doubled in awareness since going to hell and back. There’s – a shape out there. ‘A shape’ is accurate, because it’s humanoid, but also not, and the way it sort of shifts up and down suggests they’re not hanging off the ledge. A glance at her clock tells her it’s a little after three in the morning, and that only agitates her. She grumpily grabs a sweatshirt and pulls it over her head before drawing back her curtains – to stare into the impish face of Leo Valdez. 

It takes her another moment for the realization to sit in, and then she pulls open her window with mild aggression. “What the hell are you doing here, Leo?”

“Annabeth! Good, you are awake! Lemme in, I’m not too keen on falling from this height.”

“You can’t – wait, _Jason?_ ”

“Uh, hey, Annabeth. Sorry about this.”

“Both of you get in here!” she hisses, opening the window further so they can pile inside. For the first and only time is she glad it’s 3AM, because explaining the sight of two flying teenage boys is not something she’s particularly interested in doing. 

Jason stands with his arms crossed, expression bouncing back and forth between apologetic and resigned. It’s not the first time he’s shown up at her window, but all the other times so far have been because of Piper. Leo, however, has no such reservations. He’s immediately pulling small models of technology out of his toolbelt, on top of a handful of notes scrawled in Greek. 

“Okay, so, like, this is super important, and I need your input immediately. You’re literally the smartest person, I know, okay, so don’t ask me why it had to be you!”

“Leo, it’s _three am!_ You could have just IM’d me!”

“Naw, I might have woken someone up!”

“I live _alone_.”

“What if I woke someone in my cabin up? I mean, c’mon, look at the time. And you could have had company yourself, don’t be fronting.” 

“And, what, waking _me_ up is fine?”

“Glad to see we’re on the same page,” he says, a bit distracted, hastily shoving a couple of pieces together. Whether she’s interested in what he’s doing or not clearly has no impact on his determination in it. 

“He woke me up, too,” Jason chimes in. “Perks of having a place to yourself?”

“I guess he needed a ride,” Annabeth replies dryly. 

“Hey, we borrowed a Pegasus for some of the way.” 

“Should I be grateful flying horses don’t fit through my window?” 

“Probably.” 

Annabeth groans, and Jason tries not to grin, but they both sort of look over to where Leo seems to have finished his necessary assembly. 

“Okay, okay, so look at this – ” And he picks up two pieces, shoving a paper into her hands in the same movement. He starts going into the physics of it, and she’s pretty sure Jason’s eyes start to glaze over, just as her interest finally piques enough that she can’t hold on to being so frustrated. Especially because he starts asking her physics related questions. 

She gets so involved and they just keep talking back and forth – she’s good with ideas, Leo’s good with implementation, and about an hour passes before he finally gets what he wanted and then some. There’s a scattered supply of papers across her floor, and some of the pieces were disassembled and reassembled. They both look up and over at Jason, to see he’s literally started to doze standing up, his back leaning against her wall. 

“Hope you didn’t fly him too hard,” Annabeth says.

“No way. I know the limits of Sons of Jupiter. That’s actually my next big thing – some kinda device to improve their flying speeds and stamina. Piper’s my financial supporter.” 

“I heard that,” Jason grumbles, pushing himself completely upright and blinking blearily into consciousness at them. 

“You didn’t hear a thing,” Leo replies, pointing at him with a wink. “But seeing as my chauffeur is ready to go at least, I should probably get back to camp.”

“You’re lucky tomorrow’s Saturday and I don’t have to be awake by nine.”

“You _know_ this stuff was cool!”

A pause. “Maybe a little bit.”

Leo practically cackles, clearly pleased with himself, gathering up his things and shoving them back into the belt as Jason sits on the edge of the window and slips out, hovering in the air just outside it. No matter how many times she sees it in action, Annabeth still needs to take a moment to stare at it. 

“And next time you’re at camp, I got some other stuff to share. It’s real sick.”

Annabeth turns back to Leo, shaking her head, but she’s grinning. Honestly, she is interested. She’s not nearly as much of a mechanic as Leo (or any child of Hephaestus, really) but she’ll always have an appreciation for genius. And Leo? Well, his technological abilities are basically that level, and despite the initial (and occasionally still there) personality clash, they’ve reached an understanding in their friendship, and when it comes to stuff like hashing out ideas, they flow together well. 

“Just fly home safe,” she says cheekily, making sure to look at both of them.

Leo pat’s Jason on the head as he sits on the window. “Me? I got the best ride in town.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and grabs Leo from the sill, lifting them both up in the air. “Good night, Annabeth.” 

“Peace out, give Percy our regards. Oops, that was a surprise visit tomorrow. Act surprised, okay?” 

“Idiots. Get back and don’t let the harpies eat you.” 

“I got no meat on my bones, I’m a poor meal,” Leo gets in, before Jason literally flies them off, presumably to reunite with the Pegasus. 

Annabeth crawls back to bed and falls asleep pretty easily, but her dreams are full of numbers and mechanical equations. 

viii.

It hits December, and unfortunately for those who apparently think Annabeth’s window is a door, she keeps it shut as the weather starts dipping below forty degrees on the daily. The dorm rooms themselves aren’t the best heated, so she bundles herself up in a sweatshirt even after buying the thickest, most insulated curtains she can find. 

But not even those dark green curtains can mask the sounds outside the glass. Especially not the kind of banging sound of someone desperate to get inside. She runs through a mental list of suspects, flinging them open to stare down at her boyfriend hunkered and half hanging on the ledge, with Riptide in his grasp. 

With an eyeroll, she opens the window and helps drag him inside. “I swear to the –”

“You’re a hero!” he says, cutting her off and slamming the window shut behind him. What’s unusual is his lack of physically affectionate greeting, the way he peers right back out before drawing the curtains shut like a ward. 

“Don’t even, you have _no_ idea what kind of massive test I have tomorrow! I don’t have _time_ for this, or whatever –”

“Shh, you’ll summon the nuns!” he warns, interrupting her for the second dangerous time. He still hasn’t closed Riptide, though, which lowers some of her ire. 

“What did you do?”

“What? Me? _I_ didn’t do anything.” A beat, because she’s staring at him, and he easily crumbles under it. “Technically, I _didn’t_ do anything. The hellhounds did.”

“Hellhounds. Plural.”

“Only two of them! Well, three, but I got one already.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“Uhhh. Well, I was in Brooklyn, you know, with Mom and Paul for dinner, and I kind of needed a place to just – get away for a second? I came all the way from _Greenpoint_ , Annabeth, it’s ridiculous.”

“So you _came into my dorm room with two hellhounds on your tail._ ” There is no way that’s going to be easy to explain if it ends up blowing up in her face. And to be honest, it probably will. 

“I needed a safe place! Annabeth equals safe!”

If it were any other situation, the words would make her feel too warm to function. But the fact remains that he’s still on the run from two freaking hellhounds, and there are now two demigods in one tiny location. One son of the big three and the girl who found the Athena Parthenos, both survivors of Tartarus to boot. This is the opposite of safe. It’s a demigod snack bar. 

She smacks him on the shoulder. “I’m not turning my dorm room into a monster hotspot, Percy Jackson!”

“ _Ow_ , you do know –”

And unfortunately, her dorm room is about thirty seconds from becoming just that, if the howling that creeps through her windows is any indication. She’s _two_ seconds from murdering him, but it’s probably a better idea to murder the hellhounds instead. She grabs her drakon bone sword (casually kept in the closet) and shoves open the window in a matter of seconds. “If I bomb this test tomorrow, it’s entirely _your fault._ ” And she jumps from the window, ducking into a roll on the ground to avoid a super painful impact. 

Percy jumps after her, a lot less gracefully, but they rush across the campus, leaving her dorm room behind, because she has enough of a problem with surprise half-bloods. She doesn’t need any more surprise monsters either. And even though they’re basically running into combat, he flashes her a smile both grateful and adoring. 

But she’s Annabeth and he’s Percy, and it’s only a matter of time before they meet up with the hellhounds, just like it’s only a matter of time before their joint effort disintegrates both beasts, and both of them try not to imagine the respawning process below poisonous blood-red skies. 

They need a moment after that, hands folded together, catching their breath as it fogs out in the cold. She’s still only in a sweatshirt, and with luck, her jeans only ripped up at the knee. Easily fixed or ignored, depending on what she’s in the mood for. 

Percy leans over and kisses her on the cheek. “Told you you were a hero.” 

She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch up in a grin. She grins a little bit more when he kisses her properly, but there’s a shift in his intention that makes her step back after a moment. He wraps his arms around her anyway, missing the hint entirely. “So, can I –”

Annabeth shoves him off. “I still have a test tomorrow. Absolutely not.” She kisses him once more though, and then pats him on the cheek. “Besides, your mom’ll be worried. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives her the saddest, puppiest look, but she ignores him as she makes her way back for her dorm window, still open and the curtains inside fluttering with the breeze. She makes a face at it – climbing up there with her sword hasn’t been A Thing yet, but she supposes there’s a first time for everything. 

(A _successful_ first time, she might add, even if it requires tossing the sword through the window and hoping it doesn’t break anything inside.)

(It doesn’t.)

She also just kind of hopes no one decided staring at their own window was better entertainment tonight than staring at their television. Watching Annabeth Chase climb back into her dorm was apparently highly rated and recommended. 

ix.

“See, you were worried over nothing. I _knew_ you’d pass. Maybe the hellhounds were just luck!”

“Percy, you didn’t even know I _had_ a test yesterday.”

“Details!”

Details that get completely ignored as they start the familiar game of Trying to Avoid Alerting Sister Bethany. It often results in emergency use of her Yankees cap. 

But she _did_ pass her exam with flying colors. She thinks that deserves a reward. 

x.

Annabeth’s packing up tonight, because as soon as class is over tomorrow, she’s hopping the subway to Manhattan, then heading off to Camp with Percy. She’s got a handful of plans for the town she wants to share with Chiron, and she’s impatient to do so. She runs through a mental checklist, making sure she’s got enough clothes (even though she still has some things back at Camp itself, even if they’re not exactly being stored in her own cabin, but Poseidon’s has plenty of extra space for the things she can’t fit in her dorm). 

When the shadow on the wall next to her closet expands, she catches it at the last second, and bites back a wave of panic threatening to crawl up her throat. It makes her think of Tartarus, and she doesn’t _want_ to, it’s been such a good week – 

But through the shadow falls two bodies, one a lot more conscious than the other. Hazel looks up frantically, confused for a moment, with Nico cradled in her arms. Her eyes widen when she realizes who it is in front of her. “Oh, Annabeth, thank the gods! For a second I didn’t – I’ll explain later, Nico needs help.”

Annabeth acts immediately, rushing forward and helping Hazel lift Nico to his feet, where they drag his unconscious body to set down on her bed. Leaving him to Hazel for a moment, she darts for her closet, digging into her supply of nectar and ambrosia; she takes the thermos out, first, figuring a liquid’s easier, passing it over to Hazel. 

She pours some right away into her brother’s mouth, while Annabeth breaks off a chunk of ambrosia. “What happened?” 

“I was trying to get to Camp Half-Blood – I thought it’d be closer, but I guess I was thinking of you at the same time, and then I just – we were here, I’m sorry, Annabeth. I’m still not as good as Nico at this.”

She shakes her head. “Hazel, the fact that you can do it at all is impressive enough. Is he okay? What’s wrong?” 

“We were upstate a bit, and we weren’t thinking really thinking – some Canadians – I mean Laistrygonians found us. Two kids of Pluto, we should have remembered what a signal it would send. Anyway,” she starts, pouring a little more nectar into Nico’s mouth, and he stirs a bit, making her breathe out in relief. “They caught us off guard. One of them grabbed Nico, threw him, and he was already tired from shadow traveling us from California to New York. I used the Mist to trick them, sent them off on a wild goose chase, but I needed to get him somewhere safe.”

Annabeth nods and listens; it’s standard to life, really, surprise attacks and close encounters. But she’s impressed by Hazel’s handling regardless. “If it’s not too bad, he should be okay soon. Nico’s made of some pretty tough stuff.”

“I know,” Hazel says, her voice simultaneously soft and proud. 

It’s another few minutes before Nico finally blinks himself awake, groaning as he comes to. His surroundings are unfamiliar, and he immediately tries to leap up, but Hazel’s got her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. “Nico, it’s fine. We’re at Annabeth’s, you just need to lay down a little bit longer.” 

Something sort of dark flashes in his face, and his eyes land on the dorm owner herself, where she’s sitting cross legged on her desk chair. He suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world, but he doesn’t have much choice – not with Hazel hovering over him determinedly. 

“I’ll take us to Camp Half-Blood soon,” she says. “But you need to rest a bit.” 

He doesn’t look happy at all; nothing in his body language says he’s comfortable, and Annabeth’s about ninety percent sure he’d rather be unconscious again. “I could kick you out now,” she says, mildly irritated over his apparent ungratefulness. “Or summon some nuns, I’m sure they’d love to hear the story.” 

“Please no nuns,” Hazel groans, and Annabeth can’t stop herself from smirking. 

Nico grunts. “I’m fine, this is ridiculous.” 

“Nico,” Hazel starts, and there’s a warning in her tone. “You didn’t see the gash on your head. It’s better, but you should still probably bandage it.” She looks to Annabeth hopefully but gently, and the older girl nods, standing and walking back over to her closet, where just about half of the storage space is being used for half-blood supplies and tools, healing foods and weaponry included. She digs out some bandages, tosses them over to Hazel, and she cleans up the wound quickly before dressing it. 

Annabeth just watches as Nico lays there, his limbs occasionally twitching in discomfort. Her eyes narrow slightly, but it’s little enough that only someone like Percy might notice. “It’s not like you need to stay here overnight,” she says finally. Nico’s a friend, however gawky or grumpy, and she can’t figure out why he’s being so stupid over everything in this particular moment. 

“I know that,” he grumbles, sparing her a glance as Hazel finishes up. 

“Probably shouldn’t risk more nectar – but it looks like the worst is gone anyway,” she concludes, shifting herself into a more comfortable spot on the bed. They fall in silence for a few minutes, and Annabeth wonders if she’s the only one who can practically feel the awkward in the room. 

“You guys hungry?” It’s a lame offer to break the silence, but it was starting to grate on her. They both respond with a no, but Annabeth orders a pizza anyway. She has no qualms about leaving them, so she heads downstairs to pick it up once it delivers, earning a few stares from classmates, muttering about how she’s probably got company again, as she takes up an entire pie. 

The best part about living in a building full of teenage girls is they’re all mostly on the same page, and though Annabeth’s a little more notorious about her rule-breaking-without-getting-caught-often, they don’t usually tattle. She’s pretty sure they find it entertaining, watching her lie her way out of it, with the number of times they’ve seen Percy over. 

Hazel and Annabeth do a little catch up while they eat, and Nico sits up grumpily, leaning back against the wall as he does the same. They both try a handful of times to bring him into the conversation, but he doesn’t seem all that inclined, hunched over and chewing slowly. Annabeth’s almost positive it’s injury related, though there’s something else in it, too. 

“It’s not you,” he says suddenly, taking them both a little by surprise, but he makes sure to lock eyes with Annabeth. “It’s – it’s nothing. Hazel, I’m fine to go, whenever you are.”

“Nico – ”

He shifts himself off the bed, reaching for Hazel’s hand; whether _she’s_ ready or not, Nico is, and his impatience is practically vibrating him. Annabeth crosses her arms, looking at him with a mix of sternness and mild annoyance. It’s not that she _disbelieves_ him – the way he said it suggests it really isn’t _her_ exactly, but she’s definitely some part of it. 

Hazel sighs, but at the end of the day, Annabeth knows that her priority is her brother. “I’ll see you at Camp this weekend?”

“Heading over as soon as Percy and I are both free.” 

Nico flinches, so slight and barely there, that Annabeth nearly misses it. But he catches her eyes again. “Thanks,” he says mutely, but she gets the sense he’s legitimately grateful somewhere behind the standoffish. “For the – nectar.”

“Yes, thank you, Annabeth,” Hazel continues. “And I’m sorry again to bother you.”

“I’m just glad you’re both okay,” she replies, and she means it, taking care to hold Nico’s gaze long enough to show it. They all deal with Tartarus in different ways, and she can’t help the continued concern towards him, since he was ten years old and ran away from them all. Despite everything. “Travel safe.”

Hazel offers another farewell of a smile, and then the both of them disappear into the shadows.

xi.

“But _Annabeth_ , it’s an _emergency_!”

“Rachel, you haven’t given me a single detail, which basically tells me it’s not an actual emergency.” 

“Pleeeeease, please, please. What if it’s Oracle business?” 

“If it were Oracle business, you would have said so from the onslaught.” 

“Onslaught makes it sound like I’m going to murder you. I promise, that’s not it.” 

“It’s almost 11:30!”

“ _And_ you’ll get here by midnight, if you leave now. It’s not like you’re hopping Burroughs. And don’t give me that curfew crap, because I have eyes and ears all over and demigods are the worst gossips.”

“ – say again?”

“Oh, please, Annabeth, your extracurricular excursions are exciting - _ha,_ alliteration – for everyone stuck at camp. It’s a different sort of sneaking out! Nuns or harpies, which are worse?” 

“Honestly, sometimes the nuns. But I’m not getting into this.”

“The _nuns_ , I knew it. Piper owes me five bucks.” 

“That was probably unfair of her, considering how easy it is for her to get in and out of this place.” 

“Just like it’s easy for _you_ , too, right? Please, Annabeth, pleeeease!”

“Oh my gods, you’re just lucky I don’t have class tomorrow.” 

Annabeth can hear the victory in Rachel’s face, even if she can’t see it. “Why do you think I waited for tonight? I’ll see you soon!” And Rachel doesn’t wait for any more arguments before hanging up the phone. 

She groans anyway, barely able to stop herself from literally facedesking. But on the other side of things, maybe she could use a night out with Rachel. Or more accurately, a night in, full of whatever Rachel’s plotting while she’s home for the weekend. There are pros and cons, really. 

She could very easily sneak out undetected with many thanks to her hat, but sometimes (okay, most of the time) Annabeth likes a challenge. She’ll bring the hat with her of course – she barely goes anywhere without it – but there’s something quietly thrilling about climbing out her window, or trying to duck out the back doors and avoid security. 

Today is a window day. It’s not like she needs to carry too many things with her, and it’s not like Rachel’s in short supply of clothes if necessary. She hooks her knife at her waist, shoves her cap into her pocket, and throws a handful of knickknacks and necessities into her messenger bag. 

She’s crawling out the window, legs hanging over the edge and about to start climbing down when someone knocks on her door. It spooks her enough that she jumps, head slamming into the bottom of the window frame, and she lets out a quick string of curses in both English and Greek.

“Miss Chase?”

It takes all she’s got not to start swearing all over again, but she keeps it internally this time. Sister Bethany literally has the worst timing (and Percy Jackson radar, she has to admit that). It’d be easy to just ignore her, but the woman’s got senses like a hawk, and there’s no doubt in Annabeth’s mind that the nun heard her cursing.

She scrambles back inside, nearly falling over and making a lot of noise in the process. This might be the least inconspicuous and subtle Annabeth’s ever felt in her entire _life_ , and she is going to get to Rachel’s house later with nothing but blame. 

Smoothing out her shirt, she dumps her bag on the floor, hoping it looks like it’s been there all day. It’s only when she answers the door does she remember she’s forgotten to remove her knife from where it’s sitting on her hip. Not that it’s necessarily going to look like a knife to Sister Bethany, but there are simultaneously things better and worse that it may turn into. She’s only partially prepared to find out. 

The nun’s eyes instantly fall down to whatever’s shown as hanging from her waist, and Annabeth prepares for the worst of it. What she’s not prepared for is the look of utter bafflement she gets. 

“Is that new?” 

She glances down, because – well, it still looks like a knife to her at the moment. “Uh. Yes?” 

Sister Bethany gets a vaguely impressed look on her face – though it feels like she’s more impressed with _herself_. She came to the door expecting disappointment and ended up pleased. “I might suggest hanging it on the wall. A rosary is more suited if you’re,” she sighs, “ _accessorizing._ ”

Annabeth looks at it again, and it finally shifts shape for her, too. It’s turned into a crucifix. She nearly chokes, whether out of her own complete disbelief or laughter, she’s not sure. There’s always been something hilarious about being the daughter of a goddess attending a Catholic boarding school, but this is just ridiculous. She wonders if Hecate is laughing herself silly right now. 

“Right. Right, sorry,” she says, but her tone slips into something more amused than actually apologetic. But the apparent existence of a crucifix in the possession of Annabeth Chase distracts Sister Bethany enough from her original purpose (whatever it was), because the nun ignores the amusement in favor of pretending Annabeth has seen the light. She decides it’s probably better to let her think that (it won’t last long anyway). 

She offers another minute or so of advice, then explains they have a mass on both Saturday and Sunday, if she’s interested. When Annabeth implies she won’t be going, Sister Bethany gets a little grumpy again, but she leaves soon enough, and Annabeth can’t close the door fast enough behind her. 

Her whole body shakes with laughter as she picks up her things again and resumes her window escape. The knife turns back into an actual knife, and she lands easily on the ground, stealing a glance back up at her window before sprinting across the campus and hoisting herself over the gate. Gods, does she have a story for Rachel. 

xii.

Percy wakes up yelling. 

The moment he started, Annabeth could feel herself getting pulled out of her own dreams (pleasant, this time), and she’s wide-awake immediately. He’s still got his arms around her, and he’s clinging to her tightly, but his body is twitching and his face is scrunched up. 

If his own voice hadn’t jolted him awake, Annabeth thinks hers own would have, because she’s twisting herself around and reaching to grab his face. “Percy, Percy, stop, wake up!” she says, softly but urgently as his eyes fly open. 

He stares at her for a moment like she’s a corpse, and she can’t figure out if it’s because she was dead or alive. He wraps his arms around her tightly just as she does the same, and Annabeth holds him in her grasp, cradling him to her and whispering nonsensical words of comfort. 

It’s a lot better than it used to be, but Tartarus still comes to them in their sleep. Fortunately, it doesn’t take as long to settle themselves down anymore either, and when Percy pulls away to look at her face ( _making sure she’s full and alive_ ), she leans forward to press her lips gently against his forehead. He makes a soft sound, burrowing in against her once more. 

“We’re okay,” she says quietly, running a hand through his hair.

“I know,” he mumbles, because he does. 

He yelled, though, and there’s no way her neighbors at the very least hadn’t heard. She hopes maybe since it sounded terrified it’ll be enough to ward off someone checking on her. But maybe the pure desperation in it would make people concerned rather than willing to ignore like any of the other weird sounds that come from her room. 

She wishes she could say she was surprised when someone knocks at her door, but the truth is, she’s not. “I need to answer it,” she says gently, slowly disentangling from him. He doesn’t look at all comfortable or okay with it, but it’s necessary. She reaches for her hat, tossing it over, and he gives her a sad look before disappearing. 

The knocking continues, a little harder. “Annabeth?” 

There’s small relief that it’s not a nun, because as she walks for the door, she remembers that she’s wearing Percy’s shirt and not much else. Fortunately, his own current shirtlessness is invisible alongside the rest of him. She opens the door a crack to a classmate and neighbor, one she’s spoken to a handful of times, and she’s looking at Annabeth with concern. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry – didn’t mean to wake you.”

Her name is Hayley, and she shoots Annabeth a look of slight disbelief. “I know that wasn’t you, and I saw Percy earlier – I just want to make sure everything’s fine. It didn’t sound –”

“I know,” she says, cutting her off. “I just don’t want the whole floor and then some drawing even more attention. We’re fine, I promise.” 

The slight disbelief turns into full-on disbelief, but the sound of the elevator pinging down the hall makes them both jump. “Shit, I bet it’s Sister Bethany,” Hayley mutters. She makes to duck back into her own room and leave Annabeth to her privacy, but the nun hones in on them both, the look in her eyes daring either of them to move. 

The nun comes over, looking stern and vaguely concerned herself. “Someone reported hearing a rather strange noise and wasn’t quite sure what it was. I don’t suppose you girls know?” 

“We were watching a movie,” Annabeth responds, hoping Hayley will play along. “Someone screamed.”

“Do you even _realize_ the time? It’s nearly four in the morning!”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

But Sister Bethany doesn’t seem inclined to fall for it today, motioning for Annabeth to open her door further and step aside. This is turning into another sort of nightmare, because she’s pretty sure Percy’s pants are crumpled in the middle of her floor, and her own things have probably fallen victim to the same or worse. She notes the lump of blankets, recognizes Percy’s shape, but quietly hopes it’s passable as just a messy bed. Before fully letting the nun inside, she tugs down her shirt and spares a brief moment to be grateful it’s a little big on her. 

The nun peers suspiciously at the jeans, but maybe they’re balled up enough to not look like men’s. Either way, the room appears empty of people, and Sister Bethany files out no more than a minute later, casting a wary look at Annabeth’s choice in sleepwear. “I would recommend _some_ type of bottoms,” she chastises. 

Annabeth tugs on the shirt further, quietly glad she pulled on underwear before, too. “I was hot,” is her response. 

“Well, if your movie is _over_ , I might suggest returning to your own dorm!” she says to Hayley, and the girl flees with a quick ‘yes ma’am.’ The nun casts Annabeth another stern look. “And please refrain from further loud noises at this hour, less it disturb the entire floor.” 

Annabeth sighs with relief when the coast is finally clear, closing and locking the door behind her. She barely makes it back to bed when Percy rips the hat off, reaching out and tugging her back down beside him. 

“Sorry,” he mutters into her shoulder. 

She wraps her arms around him again, burrowing them both under the blankets. “Don’t worry about it,” she says easily. Honestly, not even the closest of encounters, and Percy being okay pretty much takes priority over suspicious nuns. She steals a quick kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

And the rest of the night passes peacefully. 

xiii. 

By the time the end of the year rolls around, people have given up trying to get a straight answer out of Annabeth as to the goings-on of her life. The curiosity hasn’t subsided in the slightest, but she’s evasive and too damn good at avoiding the question. She thinks they have more fun with their speculations anyway, so why bother ruining some of the magic? 

Percy and Piper are the ones who come over to help her pack up all her things, and at the rate all three of them continually get distracted by things along the way, what was supposed to be a one day venture turns into promises of coming back tomorrow. She’s about ninety percent sure both of them want to spend the night, but Annabeth refuses to choose, so she sends them both home. Not till after curfew, of course, and they end up turning it into a competition to see who can get out of the building faster. Piper wins, and Annabeth might have held Percy captive at the window for a longer-than-normal good-bye kiss, but it totally wasn’t just to give Piper the extra time to do so. Totally, definitely, not. (But hey, it’s not like kissing Percy is a ever a chore, no matter the motivation.)

Piper shows up first in the afternoon, bringing over some bagels, and they basically do no packing at all until Percy shows up about a half an hour later. And it takes them another half hour after eating and shooting the breeze before they finally get going. 

Some of Annabeth’s classmates poke their heads in ( _friends_ , she needs to keep reminding herself – they’re her friends now, she actually made friends outside of camp), asking if she needs any help, but knowing Piper and Percy as the biggest outside frequenters of her dorm, it’s usually just a chance to ask if Annabeth’ll be in the city at all over the summer. (People actually asking after her, that’s a bit new, too). They even make some tentative plans to get some lunch, or go to the movies, and if Annabeth smiles warmly after they leave, neither Piper nor Percy teases her about it. 

“I swear you didn’t have nearly this much stuff at the beginning of the year,” Percy grumbles, packing away some of the less fragile objects she’s accumulated. 

Piper wraps up the statue of Wenchang Wang and lets out a snort. “Please, Percy,” she starts. “Do you know how much of this is yours?” 

He opens his mouth to protest, then promptly closes it, seeing as he lifts up a long lost t-shirt of his own in the same moment. 

“Don’t worry, I washed it,” Annabeth notes. “She’s right, though. We should make a box or two and mark its contents for kelp.”

“This is totally not fair,” Percy grumbles. “You already tag-teamed me yesterday. I’m waiting for a rematch, McLean. This time fair and square.” 

“Hey, I have nothing to do with your girlfriend’s cheating tendencies. But it’s good to know she’s on my side.”

Percy looks over at Annabeth. “You really _don’t_ play fair all that often.”

“Oh, shut up,” she replies cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek. “You’re hardly one to talk.”

The door’s wide open, and a handful of people walk by, poke their heads in, but none so ominously auspicious as Sister Bethany herself; if the three of them hadn’t been demigods with sharpened senses, they might not have noticed her standing there, hovering silently in the doorway with an unreadable expression on her face. 

“Sister Bethany,” Annabeth says, a bit formally despite the year under her watchful eye. Or maybe because of it. But there aren’t any rules about who is or who isn’t allowed over at the end of the year, when moving out is the priority above most else, so she knows she isn’t in any danger of actually getting in trouble (at least during daylight hours). Percy and Piper awkwardly shuffle behind her, as if trying to disappear into the room, and the nun squints at them briefly (recognition of both of them clear as day in her face) before turning back to Annabeth. 

“I see you’re almost ready to move out.”

She bites back on the urge to make some sort of sarcastic remark of obviousness, opts for a nod instead. “Off to camp for the summer.”

“Ah, yes,” the nun says, because even if she doesn’t know what Camp entails, exactly, Annabeth’s academic record shows she spent a good portion of her life attending year round. “You’ve filled out your application to return to us next fall?” 

“That’s the plan,” she says. Barring any more sudden great prophecies or quests halfway across the world. Or worse. She doesn’t really want to think about the worse right now though and let it ruin her day. She’s already been accepted back, at any rate, despite her blatant flouncing of half the rules. She’s pretty sure the nuns know she’s had Percy (and others, namely Piper or Rachel) come crash overnight, but no one’s actually been caught red-handed. It just puts her on their radar at a higher level, makes her step up her game. It’s kind of fun, sometimes. 

“I do hope your senior year will prove a better experience for all those involved.” 

Annabeth isn’t really sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or insult, but she’s days away from heading back to Camp Half-Blood for summer, so there’s not too much that can damper her mood. She smiles brightly. “Well, these are supposed to be the best years of our lives, right? I’ll do my best.” 

She hears Percy snort behind her, then grunt, presumably because Piper’s elbowed him in the side. Sister Bethany casts a pointed look in both of their directions, and Piper gives the nun a most innocuous look, but Percy just fidgets awkwardly; he’s never dealt well under any kind of scrutiny, and Annabeth half expects him to come up and kiss her on the cheek in retaliation. 

“Don’t forget to check out when the time comes and drop off your key as necessary.”

“I’ve got it all under control, Sister Bethany.” 

She makes a ‘hmph’ sort of sound, because Annabeth Chase having things under control is something not even the nun herself can really disagree with. “Good luck, Miss Chase, and do try not to get into too much trouble this summer.”

“You should know by now I can’t make a promise like that,” she grins. She can’t help it, not after the year she’s had running underfoot this nun. 

The nun sighs and makes to leave without another word, but it’s about standard to their usual level of interactions. 

“Don’t worry, Annabeth,” Piper chimes in. “I’m sure you’ll get into plenty of trouble this summer.”

She turns back to them both. “Hopefully just the kind where harpies are the only thing to worry about.”

“Ugh, tmi,” Piper mock-groans, and Annabeth punches her lightly in the arm as Percy’s cheeks tint a reddish hue. 

“No more late night snack runs for you,” she warns gravely. 

Piper holds a hand over her heart. “I’m crushed. I suppose there’s always Leo.”

“Not if you’re looking for subtle.” 

They go back to packing, taking a break around dinner to order a pizza, and Percy eats three slices before he even realizes it, going in for a forth before Annabeth remarks he could use a lesson on sharing. By the time it gets dark, her room’s just about packed away, save for the sheets and pillow on the bed, which she needs for tonight, since move out is first thing in the morning. They’ve arranged for Argus to come up with the van, and Annabeth doesn’t care if it might be considered special circumstances or even special treatment. She’s pretty sure she deserves it. 

Piper and Percy leave again at the same time, and both of them (along with Sally and Paul) are coming over again tomorrow to help her transport the boxes. Percy finished up his own semester at Goode a few days earlier, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to head out to Camp without her. It’s his home and her home, but being together is another kind of home, one she’s pretty sure they’re both beginning to prefer, no matter where they end up.

Percy, however, does a roundabout, and comes back in through the window. Annabeth has no idea what her rooming situation will be like next year, but it feels like a good way to end her last night in here, a few extra hours with him; they spend it mostly talking about plans for the summer, and she almost asks him to stay over – but she needs one more night for herself, in her own space, so she kicks him out around one in the morning. 

Besides, they have the whole summer ahead of them, and she thinks she’ll personally kick the gods in the face if they don’t get it.

**Author's Note:**

> somehow this exploded into over ten thousand words and i'm still not sure how that happened (but it helped me with nano so who am i to complain)


End file.
